What Friends Are For
by Ghostgirl468
Summary: One-shot about John's life with Sherlock. Possible other one-shots if reviews are any good. R&R . Everyone who reads and reviews gets a free hug :   Rated T because no one really explains ratings, they're just there .
1. Rare Advantages

My first little Sherlock fanfic. A one-shot, which will be followed by some other one-shots (possibly), about Sherlock and John.

Some slash if you read upside down but no one does that, so never mind.

Ok, so I am, like all of us here, a HUGE Sherlock fan and am dying for more episodes. Until they are here of course, we all live and breath in the domain of fanfiction, which is my way of surviving :D

So, here's my little dedication to every story in the Sherlock region of fanfic that's got me through these difficult times :')

**_Disclaimer:_** As you can tell from the above, I don't own Sherlock. Sad face.

Enjoy :)

oOo

_Rare Advantages_

Life with Sherlock was never what you would call, dull. If there was ever even a second predecessing boredom, the microwave would undoubtedly explode, or John would find another limb in the freezer. But sometimes the ex-army doctor wondered if it was all a bit _too_ exciting, Most of the time, they were linking "something fun to do" with someone else's death.

With that in mind, John Watson knew as he walked into the flat of 221b, glancing at a text from Sarah, that he would not swap the scene before him for anything in the world.

The flat, as usual, was a disaster, a mixture of books, newspapers, discarded nicotine patches, clothes, glass beakers, a couple of abandoned microscopes, a sword (where the _hell_ had that come from?), a jar full of eyeballs, broken glass, several permanent and worrying blue stains, and about half a dozen apples, which had played an important and fatal role in Sherlock's latest experiment.

John was looking past all of this though, partly because he was used to it by now, but mostly because sitting in the middle of the floor was Sherlock, huddled into his dressing gown, wires dangling from his ears, his head bobbing up and down and his eyes scrunched shut as he concentrated. From his standstill be the door, John could quite clearly hear the loud, brash music of Gabriella Climi's "On A Mission", blurting out of the earphones.

But that wasn't what shocked him the most. No, what really knocked John backwards was that _Sherlock_ was _singing._ Every word, every note. _Singing_.

He stood there for a few minutes, pure disbelief on his face, until Sherlock finally whirled around, saw him, and instantly shut up, his body freezing.

The music stopped too.

There was a slight, staring silence before John cleared his throat, "Uh, what are you doing?" Abruptly, Sherlock stood up, and in one motion swiped the earphones from his ears and threw the I-pod at the couch. His 'high-and-mighty' expression took over from a faltering moment of surprise, and he looked towards John as though there were an obvious and perfectly logical reason.

"I am merely researching the level of volume it takes before the internal hearing starts to become affected. I'm bored".

He took on the cadence he had when explaining through a crime scene, and John just felt the need to nod along with it, "R-Right…Find anything?"

Sherlock paused, before nodding once. "Hearing loss begins to occur at 85 decibels"., he turned on his heel and stalked upstairs to his room. A few moments later the door could be heard slamming shut.

Still in the doorway, John's face broke into a broad grin. Sherlock was always one step ahead when John was being secretive, or trying to hide something from him – mostly because John didn't want Sherlock to start deducing and commenting on his personal secrets. But now, the doctor had a rare and perfect advantage over the great Sherlock Holmes, next time he was being too cocky to deal with, and all thanks to the genius behind the video phone.

oOo

Thanks for reading!

Oh, yes, please review :) pretty please :) with a cherry on top :) a very nice cherry :) and chocolate sauce :) and cream if you like but personally I think craem is blah :/ unless it's ice cream...

...Let me know what you think :)


	2. Learning A Lesson

Thank you SOOOOO much for your reviews everyone :D they make me smile :) HUGS AND ICE CREAM FOR EVERYONE! (metaphorically sadly, although I WILL work on this)

Anyway, here is, due to popular demand (tehehehe :D) the sequel. I don't think it's as good as the first chapter :S but let me know what you think.

**_Disclaimer:_** Nope, Nada, Zilch, Zip. Sherlock is not mine. Cry with me.

oOo

He'd done it again. Bursting through the door 221b, John felt just about ready to shoot Sherlock – it was a good thing all the bullets had been used to "decorate" the walls.

Instead, he stormed and stomped about the living room, muttering and swearing.

A few moments later, Sherlock entered casually. John caught the smirk dancing on his lips and turned to face him.

"Why? Why do you always do this to me?", he screamed, struggling to stop himself from punching the smug look off of the detectives face.

Placing his coat on the table, Sherlock put on an innocent look,

"Do what? I merely felt like eating out tonight. I had no idea I would run into you...".

_Control John. Control..._"Sherlock. Your order arrived at our table _before_ you even walked into the restaurant".

There was a pause as Sherlock rearranged his face into a frown.

"Well, they must have mixed it up. It was lucky that you were there to save me a seat".

"Save you a - ! Sherlock, I was on a _date_. I was having a perfectly normal conversation with Sarah before you walked in, and suddenly you're accusing the waiter of stealing - "

"He was!"

"**AND** there's a gang of knife-bearing thugs chasing you through the place!"

"Yes, there was a...misunderstanding. I thought I'd lost them".

In a spur of anger John kicked the table. Sherlock didn't even flinch. "I am fed up of you inviting yourself to my dates!"

But Sherlock had grown bored of the conversation and strode past him, snatching his violin from the chair and heading for his bedroom.

A few moments later John could hear the strings being plucked violently as Sherlock made another attempt to push him further over the edge.

_Great, now he's going to make **me **feel guilty._

Sighing John slumped onto the chair by the desk and opened his laptop. Updating his blog usually helped to get rid of some stress.

But as he stared at the screen he couldn't think what to write, other than,

_Flatmates being a prat **again**_.

Seemed to fit the bill, but it didn't help with anything, only annoyed him more.

His phone beeped suddenly and he read over the screen, rolling his eyes.

_When you've stopped huffing, we're out of tea_

_SH_

Glaring at the phone, John was about to storm upstairs and give Sherlock a very loud piece of his mind, when he looked back at his phone and the glint of an idea sparked mischeviously.

Uploading the video onto the laptop, he typed a caption and then closed his laptop, Johns smirk much resembling Sherlock's own.

_That'll teach him._

oOo

The next morning, Sherlock waited until John had left before going downstairs; he didn't feel like sitting through another rant.

The first thing his sharp eyes spotted was John's laptop sitting on the desk.

_So, the doctor had updated his blog? Hmm..._

Without a second thought he opened the laptop, typed in Johns password – which he had figured out within a day – and opened the blog page.

_Scroll down, down, down...Ah, here we go, 1.26am..._

He smirked as he read the short sentence.

"_Flatmates being a prat again"_

Oh. Was that it? He had expected something more elaborate from John – Sherlock had interrupted his date after all. Oh, wait, there was something else below that. A video had been uploaded, with the caption,

"_As much as I complain, I have to admit there are quirks to this 'job'"_

Underneath it were several comments. Sherlock glanced at the names, which ranged from Harry, John's distant sister, to their mutual friend Mike. Even Lestrade's name was there, next to the comment, _How the hell_ _did you manage to get this?._

Curious, Sherlock leant closer and clicked play.

oOo

Closing the door behind him, John looked up to find Mrs Hudson standing on a stool trying to nail a painting into the wall.

"Need some help there?", he asked, feeling in a much better mood than last night.

After the painting was up, the landlady smiled her thanks, "You're out early John", she inquired. "Visiting Sarah?".

He shook his head, holding up the box of teabags, but before he had the chance to speak there was a loud, defined crash as a chair was thrown across the flat upstairs, and a shout that seemed to shake the roof.

"JOHN!"

Failing to hide a grin, John passed the box over, "Actually could you give them to Sherlock. I forgot to get the milk".

Leaving the surprised Mrs Hudson staring up the stairs, John backed out of the flat quickly and bolted, struggling to hold his laughter. He had no idea where he was going, but Sherlock needed some time – a _lot _of time – to cool off, and John needed the same time to think how he was going to get back into the flat alive.

oOo

hehehehehe :D

Review pretty pretty please :) And thank you so very much for reading :)

Also, if this goes well, there shall be several more chapters (one-shots), some might be related, most won't, but they should still be good, so I hope you continue to like and review!


	3. Doing the World a Favour

Next chapter! Wooooooooo

Ok, so my sequel to the sequel is inprogress because I'm having serious trouble making everyones reactions to The Video just perfect :S

Also, I am going on holiday in the morning - leaving at half BLOODY four! - and won't be back for a week :( but by then it will be done and I hope you enjoy :)

_**Disclaimer:**_ Yes, I'm still disclaiming any ownership over Sherlock.

So here is a little random one-shot thing, basically about Sherlock getting fed up of Anderson :D which was bound to happen eventually :D

oOo

Anderson. That bloody fool. Arrogant **and** Ignorant. And how could ANYONE be _that_ stupid. Sherlock had always been aware that the general population were idiots, but Anderson made them look like geniuses.

That was why he was doing this. Not because of his indescribable need to mock the man – which there was plenty of – but because when the forensic team leader decided to say something about a case, he was bringing down the IQ of the entire planet. In any case, Sherlock was doing the world a _favour_.

Sherlock smirked at his own little joke, before kneeling in front of the door to pick the lock.

oOo

"Right, what's happened?".

Lestrade took a breath, pointing in separate directions when they were relevant.

"Two bodies, found under a _lorry_ this morning. They weren't hit by a car or anything, cause of death is a bullet to the head for both of them. The lorry driver's being questioned now. He said he only got here a couple of hours ago so we're guessing they've only been there about an hour".

Sherlock nodded, looking around as his brain stored every piece of information, "Right". He spotted the forensics team, and his eyes scanned over them, before he stifled a smile. John was about to ask what was it when Donavan approached.

"Freak", she sneered automatically upon seeing Sherlock, and then addressed Lestrade, "Still no sign of him. Should I call him?". Lestrade nodded.

As Sally took out her phone and dialled, Sherlock put on a very genuine innocent look, which none of them bought.

"Who's missing?"

Sally glared at him, but remained silent, listening to the ringing on the other end. Lestrade answered instead,

"Anderson. I called him this morning to lead the forensics team but it went straight to message".

Sherlock didn't answer, but John had a feeling that whatever had happened to Anderson had something to do with the Consulting Detective.

At that moment Sally started speaking, listening to the other end of the phone, where Anderson had obviously picked up. His shouting could be heard by all of them, but was so loud none could understand. Eventually Sally lowered the phone, looking perplexed.

"What was that about?", Lestrade asked.

She shrugged, "I couldn't understand it. Something about how to get permanent marker off and a decapitated hand holding his mobile...? That can't be right...". They both shook their heads in shock and confusion, before Lestrade turned back to Sherlock.

"Well, you may-as-well start with your...deducing. Looks like Anderson won't be turning up today".

Nodding, Sherlock led John over to the scene. As he looked over the body and began speaking his thoughts and conclusions out loud, John was remembering with sudden realisation that Sherlock had gone out last night. Sherlock _never_ went out, unless it was to do with a case, and they had had none. Finally, two and two clicked together with a thud. Raising an eyebrow as the tall man looked up at him, John's expression stopped Sherlock dead.

"Sherlock. What did you do to Anderson?".

Sherlock grinned.

oOo

:D

R & R? Yes please, reviews feed my brain and you don't want my brain to stop. Do you? DO YOU?

Sorry, that was a bit insane but I've just spent the last hour eating six packets of skittles and they might have done something...

:D


	4. Apology Accepted

OK, to start with...

Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry Sorry :(

Sorry.

It has been an exact month since the last, unrelated chapter. Sorry.

Yes, I have been having writers block. That is my excuse. Serious writers block. It should be certified as a terminal illness.

Anyhoo it stopped writing completely for all of my fanfics, coupled with my busy life of school and work :|

But now, finally, INSPIRATION!

And so, the final chapter of What Friends Are For. Some slash, towards the end, I guess, if you live in SlashWorld, which many of us do. But other than that it's what I believe is called an 'Appropriate Ending' :)

oOo

Sherlock was bored. No, no wait, that wasn't it. It was something else. He was...He was...Ah, yes, that was it. He was pissed off.

It had been 8 hours and 43 minutes since he'd discovered John's amazing technical and stealth skills, and his mood was not improving.

John had eventually returned very, _very_ carefully. He had obviously been expecting some kind of revenge, like a head jumping out at him or a bucket of acid over the door – these had all crossed Sherlock's mind – but there hadn't been of course, because Sherlock was saving that for perhaps another day, when the doctor least expected it.

There had been a muttered apology, and something about no longer going to dates, and then the video was gone, and Sherlock had let it slide, for now.

But now he was faced with a dilemma. Lestrade had texted him, less than an hour ago. He had a new case. Normally this was enough to excite him, and there was some small part in his head that was shoving him to his feet. But most of Sherlock was frowning. Lestrade had seen the video, he knew that much. Maybe it wouldn't be too bad. Maybe Lestrade wouldn't say more than a chuckle. Sherlock could live with that, because he could easily block out one person.

But if Donovan or Anderson had seen it...

No, there was no mention of them on the blog. They couldn't have, they _wouldn't _have.

Satisfied, he grabbed his coat and called upstairs, "John! We've got a case"

As he opened the door John came stepping cautiously down the stairs, "A case? Uh, are you sure you want me to...?"

Rolling his eyes, Sherlock nodded violently, "Yes, yes, now hurry up. We're already late"

oOo

He didn't show it, but Sherlock was whirling anxiously through his thoughts as they walked into Scotland Yard.

They haven't seen it. Stop panicking. They haven't seen it.

They entered the office side by side, and everyone looked up at them, including Anderson and Donovan, who were standing on either side of Lestrade.

Sherlock looked at them briefly before dropping his head into his hands

They'd seen it.

oOo

_Stomp, Stomp, Stomp. SLAM._

The door to 221b nearly flew off its hinges as it was flung with monumental force into John's face, just missing his nose by a millimetre. Pausing and gathering all his breath, he then cautiously opened it again and peered into the flat.

Sherlock was pacing the room furiously, but his expression remained surprisingly placid. Still, John was not foolish enough to go walking in yet. Right now, the front door was his only shield against Sherlock Holmes. The same Sherlock Holmes who knew how to kill a man as painfully as possible and leave no evidence what-so-ever.

Sherlock was still pacing. He whistled his breath through his teeth for more self-control, and one hand was constantly flying through his hair as he tried to think, tried to calm himself. But it wasn't working.

From behind the door, John spoke quietly, "Sherlo - ?".

He never got time to finish, because the detective had suddenly focused all of his strength and anger on the sound of the doctors voice, and was throwing everything he had at him, "SHUT UP JOHN! Don't speak! Apologies never do anything, words never do anything! Not when the damage is done! So just shut your idiotic mouth before your tiny little brain explodes and go and do the only thing your good for and make some tea! Or better yet, go out and find that bubbling, brainless on-off girlfriend of yours and chat about nonsensical drabble!".

Ending his fit of screaming Sherlock fell backwards onto the couch, drew his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around them and buried his head into his jacket.

Completely and utterly shocked, John had let go of the door, which swung open by itself quietly, and just stared uncontrollably at the spot where Sherlock had just been. He had been expecting some kind of tantrum, some kind of blame. But never had he thought it would feel that bad. All because he recorded one stupid video. Sherlock's social limits were always very touch-and-go, but this small thing was clearly past the limit. And John felt guilty right through to his bones.

Unfreezing slowly, he stepped inside the flat, shut the door behind him and moved soundlessly through to the kitchen, where he clicked on the kettle and, out of habit, subconsciously took out two mugs. Twenty minutes passed, in which John slowly prepared the two cups of tea, his thoughts miles away from the task at hand.

The reaction that had just been slammed in his face was due to the incident this morning. Another case had appeared, and Sherlock, being Sherlock, had been unable to resist. Of course John had still felt dubious about Sherlock's recovery from the blog incident, but never-the-less he had been invited along too. Just another day.

And then, they had made it to the police station, quite safely, quite normally, when John suddenly remembered something very, _very_ bad. Something which was realised approximately two minutes later, when they had entered Lestrade's office.

There had been silence. Complete, utter, awkward silence. And then, unable to control it any longer, both Anderson and Donovan had burst into unstoppable fits of laughter. Lestrade couldn't help but join in after a few minutes, and soon the three had been rolling on the floor with tears in their eyes.

And this had been when John had decided it was not going to be a good day for him. Sherlock, who had been seemingly been suspicious of it happening, had still been taken aback at the actual situation, and because of this John had been given the silent, huffy, obnoxiously sulking, treatment the entire cab ride home.

OK, so it was justified, because the video was embarrassing and had been seen by everyone that Sherlock and himself knew. And any other person would be pissed of and try in some way to exact a righteous revenge. But normal people knew the line. Normal people would get their revenge, and then forget the whole matter, treating it as something to laugh about in the future. Normal people would not throw a temper tantrum, and shun their only friend out of their life for something as trivial as this. And then, Sherlock wasn't normal, so he did, and would do this.

John frowned sadly. He hadn't meant for it to go this far. He wasn't sure he could survive life without Sherlock. It would be far too...boring.

Sighing, he looked inconspicuously back through to the living room, and nearly fell over when he saw Sherlock was gazing at the ceiling, a brim of tears in his eyes. The guilt in his heart doubling at this sight, John poured boiled water into each of the mugs and then carefully made his way through.

As he did Sherlock's head snapped back to to hide in his coat, but John saw him shudder and took a step closer. "Sherlock?...Sherlock I'm - I'm sorry, really. I know you don't think much of apologies, but I really am sorry. I didn't mean to do this to you. I didn't think it would affect you this ba - Well, I didn't think at all actually".

Slowly, John placed Sherlock's tea on the coffee table and sat gradually on the arm of the couch, staring at the door. "Look, if - If you want me to leave I will, OK? I never meant to hurt you, I never would". His voice strangled on the last few words, but he managed to get them out.

At this, Sherlock lifted his head slowly, his eyes glancing between the mug of tea on the table and John's oblivious, lost figure.

Then, with every ounce of his strength, Sherlock let go of the perfect opportunity to sulk and stomp and manipulate guilt - and picked up the mug of tea, taking a sip. Then, in a single swift movement, he reached over and dragged John off of the armchair and pulled him into a warm, satisfying hug.

Now of course, whilst this action may have been completely appropriate for Sherlock, for John, getting hugged by a sociopath who missed out on social lessons, it was a little unnerving. Not daring to move, John lay motionless for the few, long - and undeniably comfortable - minutes, before coughing slightly.

"Uh, Sherlock?". Instantly Sherlock released his grip, dropping John onto the couch completely, and shuffled to the other end before standing.

"Apology accepted. And don't even _think_ about going anywhere", he smirked, before walking upstairs. John, still lying where he had fallen, smiled.

Life with Sherlock Holmes was never what you would call, dull.

oOo

Thank you thank you thank you to the end of the earth for reading, and reviewing (And I hope liking)

Please leave your thoughts for me to read, reviews are so happy!

Hugs and thanks, Ghostgirl468 :)


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